


Pull your little arrows out, let me live my life

by heavenisalibrary



Category: Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-18
Updated: 2014-11-18
Packaged: 2018-02-25 17:58:16
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,151
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2630936
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/heavenisalibrary/pseuds/heavenisalibrary
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Things like this just happened to him. He must've had one of those faces — again — that begged for peculiar things to befall him. Usually he liked it; usually it was things like apocalypses and alien invasions and abductions and all sorts of scary, dangerous events he loved to dive into head first. Slap him with a mysterious disappearance and add in a dash of the supernatural and at least one near-death experience and he was happy as a clam. But these sort of things — these weird, stupid occurrences, these series of unfortunate events that strapped him with mundane responsibilities, well. He'd never signed up for those.</p><p>Yet here he was, the Doctor, left alone in the fast food restaurant at two o'clock in the morning, manning the till. And he wasn't even making minimum wage.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Pull your little arrows out, let me live my life

**Author's Note:**

> One of the weirder things I think I've posted on this site. It was meant to be a "it's 2 AM and I need fries AU" or something like that, but then it didn't end up being an AU, and then it just became even more convoluted from there.

Things like this just  _happened_  to him. He must've had one of those faces —  _again_  — that begged for peculiar things to befall him. Usually he liked it; usually it was things like  _apocalypses_ and  _alien invasions_  and  _abductions_  and all sorts of scary, dangerous events he loved to dive into head first. Slap him with a mysterious disappearance and add in a dash of the supernatural and at least one near-death experience and he was happy as a clam. But  _these_  sort of things — these weird, stupid occurrences, these series of unfortunate events that strapped him with  _mundane responsibilities_ , well. He'd never signed up for those.

Yet here he was, the Doctor, left alone in the fast food restaurant at two o'clock in the morning, manning the till. And  _he_  wasn't even making minimum wage.

He'd been looking into a string of robberies that'd been occurring in the area over the past few months. Jewelry, mostly, along with a handful of other expensive items belonging to some truly insufferable but ultimately innocent socialites. It looked mundane from the outset, and he'd only gotten accidentally involved — but then, when he'd actually  _looked_ , he hadn't found any answers. Not a clue anywhere to be found. And anything that could so thoroughly stump the Doctor, well. That was certainly worth his time, although now that he was stuck in the empty restaurant watching throngs of people walk past the windows outside, coming home from their Friday night shenanigans, underneath the flickering florescent lights with the ghastly smell of low-grade beef and fry grease wafting unpleasantly from behind him, he was beginning to reconsider.

The Doctor huffed, leaning against the counter with his chin his hand. No one seemed interested in his food — and the manager had gone home, and he really was semi-illegally filling in anyway... with a nod, the Doctor decided there'd be no harm in just closing up shop for the night and finding something better to do with his time — like watching paint dry, perhaps — and he loped over to the door, flipping the sign from 'open' to 'closed'. He smiled, satisfied, straightened his bow tie, and spun on the spot, about to head out through the back door and make his way to the TARDIS when he heard someone pounding on the door. _  
_

"Oi! I see you in there!" a woman shouted, and then pounded on the door again.

The Doctor paused, debating. Then he shook his head and started to continue his way out the door when the woman pounded on the door again. Harder, this time.

"Don't you walk away!" she continued, "or I'll report you to the management, or something. I promise, you don't want to cross me —"

The Doctor frowned, and turned around, making his way toward the door, if not only to tell the woman that she was being  _incredibly_  rude.

"— and if I can't get some chips in the five minutes, I'm going to feel very put out! On the other hand, if you open up, you'll find me  _very_  agreeable, and..."

The Doctor threw open the door and gaped.

"And hello sweetie," said River Song, grinning. She leaned against the doorway, placing her outside hand on her hip and tilting her head. "What on earth are you doing here?"

"Being harassed by a mad woman," the Doctor said.

River clicked her tongue, her grin widening — she was young,  _very_  young, he could tell by her smile; it was more bone than warmth — as she straightened and pushed past him into the restaurant.

"I didn't say you could come in," the Doctor said, but he shut the door and followed behind her as she made her way into the kitchen.

"You opened the door."

"You were shouting!"

"For you to open the door," River said, glancing at him over her shoulder as she opened the industrial refrigerator and pulled out a bag of pre-made chips, ready for the fryer. "And you did. Was that not an invitation?"

"No," the Doctor said, "it was an effort to stop you from getting arrested for disturbing the peace, or something. Not that I knew it was you. If I had, I might've let you carry on — you probably would've just broken in anyway." Although he didn't try to stop her as she poked around the kitchen and turned on the fryer. She didn't know her way around and spent a lot of time looking in cupboards and pressing buttons until she got results, and it was only in watching this process that he realized she was drunk, and said as much.

" _Nooo_ ," River drawled, laughing brightly as she emptied the bag of chips into the fryer baskets. "It's two AM on a Friday night, I'm wearing a skin-tight dress and four-inch heels and enough eye makeup that I'll surely look like a raccoon in four hours — and you're implying I've been drinking? Mm, and I thought you were supposed to be clever. Why _ever_  would you draw that conclusion..."

"Why are you out drinking?" the Doctor said, scratching at his cheek. "This isn't even your century."

"Every century is my century," River said. "I've got a vortex manipulator, superhuman intellect, and an arse to kill for. The world is my oyster."

He laughed, and she batted her eyelashes dramatically at him. He was more than a little baffled to have found her here, and to have her here  _drunk_ and apparently more interested in french fries than him was quite a lot to process. Besides, she was so  _young_ — he didn't know for sure, but he could just tell. He knew her so well. River was dangerous on her best day, but only at her youngest was she so raw; later she'd cover up her sharp edges and bandage up her wounds, but so young, it was hard to tell with she was smiling because she was happy, or if she was just preparing to sink her teeth into him. So he kept his distance as she moved about, and bit his tongue when she stumbled slightly in her heels — in part because there was a five percent chance that she'd stab him with them, and in part because he so desperately delighted in any moment when his wife's superhero mask slipped off — and kept himself from commenting on exactly how  _very_ right she was about her arse.

"The world is your oyster," the Doctor said, "and yet here you are, pounding on the door to a fast food restaurant to steal fries at two AM. Oh, how the mighty have fallen."

River rolled her eyes. "Clearly you've never been drunk and out dancing until two AM. Fries are a  _necessity_."

The Doctor snorted. "I'm nine hundred and eighty," he said, "you underestimate me."

River turned around, leaning against the counter and folding her arms over her chest as she evaluated him. "You've been out dancing until two AM."

"Later," the Doctor said.

River pressed a hand to her cheek in feigned shock. "You bad, bad boy."

He preened a bit, tugging at his lapels. "When are we, River? If you're surprised by that, it must be early days indeed."

She lifted on shoulder in a shrug, tossing her hair over her shoulder, which pushed her weight too far in one direction, and she had to reach a hand out to steady herself, but her hand landed on the edge of the fryer, and she immediately withdrew it with a yelp. He was at her side before she could blink, grabbing her hand and examining her palm closely.

"You alright?" he asked.

"Yes," River said, hissing in pain as he grazed a finger over the burnt skin. "I did that on purpose."

He hummed, smiling slightly. "Why would you do that?"

"Well," she said, "you were being so standoffish. I had to get your hands on me somehow."

He looked up at her quickly, and her eyes were glittering, and more than a little glassy, but she was clearly teasing him. 

"All you had to do was ask," the Doctor said.

"Oh, really? You must be much older than nine hundred and eighty," River said, "because last time we met I tried to kiss you and you nearly jumped out of your skin while muttering under your breath about my father."

"I may have fudged my age a bit," he admitted.

"You always do," she said. He let her hand drop — it wasn't burned too badly — but he didn't step back, his eyes on the soft curl of her lips as she smiled at him. Oh, but he always  _tried_ to be so well-behaved around River when she was young, and based on her previous statement, she must've been  _very_ young. But it was so difficult, because she was constantly showing up at inconvenient times wearing tiny dresses and red smiles and sweeping him up into her gyre and before he even knew it he'd placed a hand beneath her chin and was leaning into to kiss her, but before his lips even touched hers she said, "sweetie?"

He raised his brows, but didn't move back.

"I have to get my fries before they burn," she said, and he sighed, stepping back and trying not to pout too much.

She set to removing her fries from the fryer and plating them, as well as pouring herself a glass of water — she broke two plates and a mug in the process, but when he'd tried to be stern about it, she'd just smirked and slunk past him on her way back to the dining room, bumping her hip against his as she passed, and he sighed. Being cross with her was impossible. Instead, he just followed along behind her and sat down at the table, watching her tuck into her fries with abandon. She moaned at the first bite, and the Doctor tugged at his hair.

"So what are you  _doing_ here, River?"

"You want to have this chat  _now?"_ she said. "I thought we'd already established that I'm rather deep in the cups, honey. Now's not the best time for serious conversation."

"It's serious, then," the Doctor said, drumming his fingers about the table.

River rolled her eyes. "I'm telling you nothing." 

"You're drunk," the Doctor said. "You're usually much more fun when you're drunk."

She shrugged, sipping her water. "What are  _you_ doing here?"

"Aiding your thievery, apparently."

"Now, now," she said, "how do you know I'm not going to pay for my chips?"

"Because I know  _you_ ," he said.

She smiled. "And what sort of  _fun_ am I usually, when I'm drunk?"

The Doctor grinned. "The  _best_ kind."

River merely smirked at him as she continued to eat her fries. She leaned back in her seat, tilting it so that the front legs lifted off of the ground as she lifted her own feet to rest on the table, her heels clinking clumsily as she did so. He lurched forward slightly, as though he could catch her, and she laughed at him.

"I'm drunk," River said, "but I'm still more coordinated than you on your best day, darling."

"I'm only trying to help!"

"Yes, and it's  _adorable_ ," she crooned.

He felt like he was some kind of toy being batted around between the paws of a cat. Usually, especially when she'd been drinking, she was only too eager to literally press up against his boundaries and torment him within an inch of his life. Usually she flirted so outrageously that he felt like a flush was becoming his permanent skin tone — usually, when she was young and he was old, he spent most of his time with his arms pinwheeling through the air as he tried to back away from her quickly enough without falling over. Now, she seemed almost...  _reserved_. She teased him, and she'd nearly let him kiss her, but it was  _highly_ unusual. He wondered if he was just being sensitive, or if perhaps she just hadn't realized how well he knew her yet; perhaps she just didn't know that the slightest peculiarity in her behavior was instantly visible to him.

He tugged at his bowtie as she finished off her fries.

"Are you going to continue working here?" River said. "Only, it might be nice to have you 'round whenever I need some chips at odd hours of the night."

"Of course not!" he said. "I'm just filling in."

"Filling in for whom?" she asked, tilting her head slightly to the side. Her eyes flicked from him to her water glass as she swirled the liquid, and she tucked a riot of curls behind her ear with her free hand.

He leapt up so quickly that even River was startled, jabbing his finger in her face with a loud exclamation of, " _ha!"_

" _What_?"

"Come now, River," he said, "you must try at least a  _little_ if you're going to lie to  _me_."

She sniffed. "I'm not lying about anything."

"No," he said, "but you're omitting quite a lot of information, I'm sure, not to  _mention_ this incredibly obvious attempt to get me to leave without asking too many questions — you'll be much better one day, dear, but today you're sorely wanting for a better performance."

She grinned, only this one was genuine, and more than a little pleased. He smiled back, and she winked.

"You're here running game on someone," he said, stepping back slightly.

She let her chair and feet drop to the floor, and he stepped around the table to loom over her as she shrugged.

"Of course I am," she said. "You really think I'd toil away at nightclubs in twenty-first century London?  _Sweetie_ , really."

"I knew it was odd," he said, shaking his finger at her again. "I knew  _you_ were being odd." He tugged at his bowtie as she stood, following along behind her as she went to drop her glass in the sink of the kitchen and then back out again to throw away the paper plate she'd used for her chips. "You didn't even kiss me hello," he said.

She rolled her eyes, turning around to face him, and reached out to grab his bow tie, tugging him into her where she leaned against the counter with the cash register. She kissed him in that wet, warm, sloppy way she always did young — her nails scratched a bit too hard against the back of his neck and her teeth dragged harshly over his lower lip as she pulled away, licking her lips.

"Hello, sweetie," she said.

"Hello, dear," he said. He placed his hands on either side of her on the counter and leaned heavily into. "You definitely fudged your age, too."

She shrugged. "So did you."

Now — what are you up to?"

"A little bit of this," she said, kissing the corner of his lips. "A little bit of that."

" _River_..." he warned. Things were starting to fall into place in his mind — string of high-profile robberies, mostly jewelry and priceless art and some impressive artifacts, which he'd thought was kind of odd, but now... "You may as well tell me."

"Oh, but then you'd  _stop_ me," she said, "and where's the fun in that?"

He huffed a sigh, glaring at her half-heartedly as she slid her hands beneath the tweed, pressing them around his waist and then across his back in long, languorous strokes as she pulled him closer. He leaned forward and kissed her again, softly, briefly, and then again, and again, until he trailed a series of kisses from the corner of her mouth to her throat, down her soft, golden skin until he latched his mouth onto the side of her neck and sucked hard enough to leave a mark in that way he knew made her toes curl. Her body arched into his and she let out a high-pitched whine as he continued his work. It was only after a few moments that he realized she was drumming her fingers against his back to the beat of the second hand of the clock, and when he pulled back slightly, he saw her eyes fixed to the analog clock hanging overhead.

"You're timing something," he said.

"I'm part Time Lord," she said, "I'm always timing something."

"You didn't want chips," he said, pulling back to look down at her shrewdly.

"Of course I did," she said, "why else would I be at a fast-food restaurant? I really should be going, though, so..."

She tried to extricate herself from him, but he held fast, pressing her against the counter once again, and her breathing hitched, even as a look of frustration passed quickly over her features. Her fingers dug into his back a little too harshly, but he didn't withdraw, just leaned further into her.

"Why did you come here?"

"I told you," she said, "drunk, dancing,  _chips_."

He leaned into her and kissed her again, and she gasped in surprised — he took the opportunity to sweep his tongue through her mouth, and her groan made his whole body a few degrees warmer. Even though she clearly wanted to leave, she dug her fingers even more deeply into his back, her other hand reaching up to tangle in his hair as he kissed her; she pressed her hips against his, tugging him closer with the hand in his hair, and he sighed into her mouth before pulling away. He looked down at her with a triumphant smile, in part because her cheeks were flushed and her eyes were dark and her chest was heaving in that low cut dress, and in part because, "I don't taste liquor."

"Cheater," she said. 

"Liar," he accused. "You pretended to be drunk! You burned your hand!"

"Not hardly," she said, "I  _told_ you I'd done it on purpose."

"That's insane."

River let her hand drop from his hair, caressing the side of his face before she turned it around and pointed to herself. "Psychopath, remember?"

He sighed with frustration. "You're  _impossible_."

"And quite late," she said, "so while it's been delightful, honey, I've really got to —"

He cut her off with another kiss, using his whole body to press her roughly against the counter when she tried to escape again, and she immediately melted into him. River could've incapacitated him with a single finger, and this young, she was far more inclined to, and so while he knew he was running a bit of a risk, he was also sure that secreted away somewhere in her dress he'd find whatever it was she'd stolen from whatever swanky party she'd spent the night not drinking at, and he wasn't about to let her leave now and meet whatever nefarious figure she intended to give it to — he assumed that the jewelry and paintings were being fenced. Knowing River, it was most likely to someone with the ability to time travel and make four times as much by aging the stolen goods a few hundred years before fencing them — and he tried to ignore the part of him that was almost completely certain his reckless, vicious not-yet-wife had probably started up such an initiative on her own. Also knowing River, he was sure the antiquities she was stealing were for her own private collection; she loved to dress up, his bad girl, but strip her down bare and she was just as big a dork as he was.

Usually it was her trying to distract him with her wiles — he had to admit, it was more than a little fun to turn it around on her, even if she was too young to properly understand just how overdue he was for a little payback.

He let his hands fall from the counter, fastening them to her hips and then letting them slide lower, teasing the skin at the edge of her dress with barely-there brushes of his finger tips, until he felt goose-bumps on her skin. He slid his hands up beneath the hem of her dress as she fumbled with the buttons of his shirt, spreading her hands wide across his chest the moment she'd gotten them undone, and shoving him away from her to push his tweed and his shirt off of his shoulders. His bare skin brushing against the soft fabric of her dress was a stark contrast to the sharp bite of her teeth against his jawline and then his throat, the way her fingernails bit into his wrist as she tugged his hand between her legs. He shoved up her dress this time as she used her free hand to undo his trousers, and he felt her whole body shudder against him as he tugged her pants aside and slid his fingers along her slick folds. She bit down on his shoulder, hard, as he pressed his thumb to her clit, and as she pushed his trousers and pants down around his ankles, and finally wrapped her hand around him, he completely lost sight of why he was doing this in the first place.

She tightened her grip around his cock, pumping her hand up and down and pressing her thumb to the ridge before his head with every stroke, and he kissed her to keep himself from making embarrassing noises. He pressed toward her, sliding his hand out from between her legs to help lift her up onto the counter, and then immediately returned a hand between her legs. She whined into his mouth as he slid a finger into her, hooking it back toward himself so that her whole body gave a little jolt. He pumped it in and out of her a few times before adding another as she writhed against the counter, wrapping her legs loosely around his body and tugging him closer with her feet.

"The lights are on," she said between kisses, "anybody could see."

"Nobody's out," he said.

"Not true," she said, "I was."

"You're a criminal," he said.

She bit his lip for that, but continued to kiss him, pulling him closer with her feet and relinquishing her hold on his erection to bring their bodies to touch. He slid his fingers from her and she grabbed his hand, sucking each one into his mouth, her lips smiling around them, as she slid herself up and down his erection.

"Definitely a criminal," he said, "certainly looking like that isn't legal."

She relinquished his fingers with a pop and gave him a wink, and he had to kiss her again as she leaned backward to rest against the counter, her legs dangling off and wrapped around his waist as he kissed his way down her neck and chest, sliding his hands up beneath her dress and pulling it upward with the intent of pulling it off of her, but she stopped him with it bunched up around her ribcage. He raised a brow at her, kissing her sternum, but she just moaned, tugging him closer with her feet, and he couldn't focus on anything at all as she circled her hips over his hard length. Instead, he straightened, gripping her hips, and slowly slid into her — he watched her mouth drop open in pleasure as she shifted her weight against the counter, her back arching, her hands clenching into fists at her sides since she couldn't comfortably reach him. When he was buried in her, he paused, bending over to kiss her right below where he dress was rolled up, which only reminded him that she hadn't let him take it off.

"Why won't you let me take it off?"

"Just  _hurry_ , sweetie," River whined, reaching out to fist a hand in his hair, shifting her hips against him in a display of urgency. "Undressing will take too long —"

"It'll take a second — and I want to see —"

" _Later,"_ she said.

There was suspicion crawling up his spine but it was second to the flare of heat she ignited as she squeezed her thighs around him and let out another whine, and this time the Doctor acquiesced, gripping her hips again and holding her still as he pulled out of her and pressed back in, grinding his hips down against her on the downstroke. Her feet scrambled for purchase against him as he pushed in and out of her, over and over again until she was keening in that wonderful, filthy way she did, and he bent slightly at the waist as he pulled out, sweeping his arms beneath her legs to lift them over his shoulders as he pushed in again, and they both shouted at the depth of it. River's cries grew louder and louder, her hands grasping at the counter, her body sliding against the surface with his every movement. She grew tighter and tighter around him, her back arching off of the counter top, her mouth falling open and her eyes squeezing shut. He only moved faster, feeling her thighs tremble around him as her screams reached fever pitch.

"Come on, River," he murmured, "come for me, my bad girl."

" _Yes_ , sweetie," she shouted, "just a little — little more, I —"

She broke with a scream, just how he loved, and he followed right after her, collapsing overtop of her. He placed soft kisses against her skin as she gasped for air, brushing his lips against the skin of her stomach and up over her sternum until his hands were at the edge of her dress — certainly whatever she'd stolen was tucked away under there, and boneless as she felt in his arms he might be able to — but the moment he slid his hand under her dress she grabbed his wrist with a surprising strength, sitting up on her elbow to peer at him with a smirk.

"Looking for something?"

"Yes," he said, "you're hiding two of my favorite things about you."

She snorted. "Not a chance, honey."

"Why not?"

"I like teasing you," she said, her smirk widening into a smile at his put-out expression.

"I just shagged you very publicly on a countertop," he said, "shouldn't you be thrilled right about now?"

"I do love it when you give into your kinky side," she said, "but I'm no more thrilled than usual. This is years of groundwork you're trying to dig up, honey. I'm not about to let that happen over an admittedly excellent shag."

"So you admit you're hiding something."

"Have you ever known me to be too shy to show some skin?" she clicked her tongue. "Don't play games, Doctor. You're not very good at them."

"I am so!"

River wrapped her arms around his neck, sitting up and pulling him with her so that she could press her torso against his and kiss him deeply, her fingernails scratching against his scalp in a way that made him want to purr. She writhed her body against his, slowly, gently, her mouth moving expertly against his — so much so that he almost missed her fumbling around beneath the counter, but he still noted it a little too late. Pulling back from her with hooded eyes, he raised a brow.

"What are you going to do?" he said. "Disable me with ketchup? Mustard, perhaps?"

"Don't be ridiculous," River said, wrapping her arms around him and holding his gaze. Then, so quickly he hardly had time to react, she'd pulled his hands together and he heard the  _click_ of a metal lock falling into place.

"And  _I'm_ ridiculous!?" he shouted as she disentangled herself from him, rolling gracefully backward off of the counter and righting her dress once she stood. "You find handcuffs  _everywhere!_ Where did you even  _get_ those?!"

"I hid them there when I came in," she said with a smile, turning her back to him to grab her purse from a nearby table. She pulled out a compact mirror, reapplying her lipstick and fluffing her hair as she spoke. "You were far too distracted trying to figure out why I didn't immediately jump you to notice. You're so  _easy_."

"But — but — my _pants_ are around my  _ankles_ and I haven't got a shirt and — "

She snapped the compact shut, and that grin was back — that one that reminded him just how dangerous River was, sometimes. "You really thought I was that bad of a liar?" she clicked her tongue. "Sweetie, I thought you  _knew_ me. At  _least_ you should know me well enough to know that I'm at least four steps ahead of you at any given moment."

The Doctor stalked toward her awkwardly, his hands handcuffed behind his back as he stopped before her, glaring down at her.

"I'm here filling in for one of the housekeepers at the Eltons house," he said, "thought the person behind all these robberies might stop by to try and bribe the poor kid for more information, get him in trouble." He huffed. "I figured you were here to do just that."

"Sorry, no," River said, "much too sloppy, too many loose ends. Knew you'd be here and that you'd probably figure this all out sooner or later — needed to get you out of the way to make the final transaction." She patted his cheek. "Never expected you to be  _such_ fun. Now, must dash — my meeting's in just a few minutes."

" _River_!" he shouted as she backed away from him.

"Not to worry. I'm sure you'll get out of there soon enough, and you can rest assured that this is my last job here."

" _Here_ ," he said, "but not ever —"

"How else is a girl to pay for University, Doctor?"

"You could —"

"Ah, ah, ah," River said, leaning back against the door, "you gave me my life back, honey. It's mine to do with it what I will."

" _Yes_ , but you're going to get  _arrested_ and —"

"Oh, ye of little faith," she said. 

He slumped, falling to sit on the table nearest to him. Honestly, he'd thought for  _once_ he'd had the upperhand, but of course, even young — perhaps  _especially_ young — River was far more skilled at subterfuge than he was. Her outfits may have lacked subtlety but her talent for manipulation was unrivaled, and he  _knew_ that. This was just a million times more annoying because he'd  _finally_ thought he'd tangled her in her own web.

"See you around, Song," he said, putting on his grumpiest face.

She blew him a kiss. "'Til next time, sweetie," she said. "And don't think of this as me handcuffing you in a fastfood restaurant with your pants around your ankles — think of it as you... giving me a head start."

He blushed a bit, but still managed to look suitably disapproving. "You want me to come after you, then?"

"Wouldn't be any fun if you didn't," she said. She gave him a wave and disappeared out the door. 

He stood up, lost his balance, and fell to the floor, which is where the night manager found him fifteen minutes later.


End file.
